


Rust and Stardust

by starlight_starbright



Category: Captain America (Movies) RPF
Genre: Angst, D/s undertones, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Pining, Protective!Chris, True Love, and its adorable, chris is a sweetie, like a lot of pining, like barely there, probably too much but its fun to write so, sebastian is sarcastic, sebastian likes to be held, sebastian runs into things a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_starbright/pseuds/starlight_starbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian knows one thing, and that is that he loves Chris Evans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All That You're Making Of Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1537559) by [luninosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luninosity/pseuds/luninosity). 



> This is a work of fiction. None of these situations or conversations ever happened, that I know of, anyway. Also, feel free to tell me if the Romanian is wrong because i just used google translate.
> 
> Lots of credit to luninosity and the fic "All That You're Making Of Me" that was a quasi-inspiration/kick-off for this one. I highly recommend everything this author writes!

_Chris_

Chris is not fond of these premiers. Especially now that it’s over and everyone wants to meet the cast. Too many people, not enough air. He knows it’s irrational. He’s famous, right? You think he’d be used to it by now. Premiers, cons, press . . . but no. He’s just a kid from Boston prone to anxiety attacks. Especially when he sees his gorgeous Romanian co-star.

Sebastian is decked out in all black except for his dark blue tie. It works very well with his demeanour—friendly, but aloof. Chris has to turn around to keep from staring, catching up with Mackie and Scarlett.

“Hey man,” Mackie says, throwing an arm around Chris’ shoulders. “We’re going for drinks. Wanna come?” Chris smiles, always up for a round or two after these things to calm him down. His breathing was already a bit shallow and he had a slight headache.

“Sure. Uh—just us?” Mackie looks around at the remaining cast lingering around.

“Unless Sebastian wants to come. Sam already left . . . and I don’t see Cobie anywhere.” Chris breaks away from the two of them.

“I’ll go see what Sebastian wants to do. Which bar?” Scarlett shrugs.

“I’ll text you!” she calls over she shoulder, sauntering away with Mackie. Chris walks over to Sebastian who is speaking with someone Chris doesn’t recognise. But when he sees him, Sebastian excuses himself and walks over to him. God did he look stunning. He frowns a bit when he sees Chris’ expression.

“You okay?” he asks, concerned.

“Yeah. You know how I get at these things. We’re uh—going to drinks. Scarlett and Mackie and me. If you wanna come.” Sebastian smiles a bit.

“Should be fun.” Chris leads him out to the rental car and gets in the driver’s seat. “Aren’t we not supposed to be driving these?” Sebastian asks uncertainly.

“Yeah, well, it’s technically not stealing since Joss gave me the keys, right?” Sebastian laughs, getting in and closing the door. He has to move the seat back so that he can stretch out. His legs are so long, beautiful like the rest of him. Chris realises he's staring and starts the car. He has to take a few deep breaths, not having realised how fast his heart is beating.

“Hey,” Sebastian said quietly. “You’re okay. It’s over now.” Chris looks up into those eyes—gentle and warm—and smiles.

“Thanks.” His phone buzzes from his pocket and he pulls it out.

_Hotel bar._

“They’re at the hotel bar,” Chris tells Sebastian, pulling out onto the road. It's late, but a Friday, and New York is only just waking up.

“Well at least you won't have far to walk when you get drunk tonight,” Sebastian teases, smirking.

“Hey, who said I was getting drunk?” Chris asks, mockingly offended. Sebastian laughs—the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Dude, you can't not get drunk after a premier. It’s just fact.” Chris huffs and Sebastian only laughs harder. He shivers slightly, barely there, but Chris notices and turns the heat up. Soft music flows through the radio as Chris pulls into the hotel parking lot.

“Please don’t let me get shitfaced,” Chris says, unknowingly staring at Sebastian’s lips before flicking back up to his eyes. “You know I do stupid shit when I’m drunk.” Sebastian laughs.

“Sure thing.” They get out and make their way inside through the chilly night. Sebastian shivers again and Chris has the urge to wrap an arm around him. He almost laughs at himself and the absurdity of his pining. No, not pining. He is almost sure he was in love. Mackie yelling at them from the bar interrupts his thoughts and he places a hand on Sebastian’s back to guide him through the crowd.

Alcohol flows, laugher ensues, and the night passes too quickly. Sebastian has to find an excuse to get Chris out of group shots quite a few times, but mostly succeeds in keeping him only mildly drunk. He feels warm where his thigh touches Sebastian’s and his fingers are tracing patters over the Romanian’s, but he hasn’t done anything stupid yet.

Eventually, Chris is pulled from the table and into an elevator. Sebastian keeps an arm around his waist even though Chris is fairly sure he could walk on his own. He doesn’t complain. Sebastian guides them toward his Chris’ suite and unlocks it.

“You took my key?” Chris asked.

“You handed me all of your stuff earlier.”

“Oh.” He doesn't remember that part. Sebastian wanders into the kitchen area of the suite.

“Get changed. I’ll make you tea.”

 

_Sebastian_

Chris staggers into the bedroom while Sebastian makes some tea and turns on the TV. He is trying to wrap his head around what's happening. Chris had been touching him all night—his hands, his thigh, his back . . . and Sebastian had liked being touched by Chris. Sebastian knows he doesn’t make friends easily. Not him, with the strange accent and next-to-non-existent social skills. He and Chris had worked fairly well together on the first Captain America movie, but hadn’t stayed in touch much after. Sebastian still hadn’t been able to get those ocean eyes out of his head, so he immediately said yes when asked about the sequel film.

And, surprisingly, he and Chris had become very good friends working on this one. Chris put up with his awkwardness, seemed to enjoy his company, even. Wanted to know more about him even though he didn’t have much more to share than stories of fear and poverty and assimilating to America. Nightmares of faceless men barring their exit from Romania. Sebastian shivered at the thought, but the sound of a door closing snapped him out of his headspace. Chris walks—stumbles, more like—to the couch, plopping down where Sebastian has Fantastic Four on. He doesn’t have a shirt on.

“Really?” Chris exclaims. Sebastian laughs loudly from the kitchen.

“It was on and I had to,” he teases, coming over to the couch with Chris’ tea. Chris take it, wrapping long fingers around the mug and blatantly ignoring the movie. Sebastian laughs and Chris looks up at him, smiling. God, he was beautiful when he smiled. Chris finishes his tea and set the mug on the coffee table.

“I was fuckin’ awful in this movie,” he mutters, embarrassed.

“Awh, no,” Sebastian protests. “You were cute.” It's out of his mouth before he can stop it. Chris blushes and leans into Sebastian slightly. He throws an arm around Chris’ bare shoulder and pulls him down so that his head rests against Sebastian’s thigh. He traces his fingers over the smooth skin of Chris’ back, revelling in the warmth. His other hand is on top of Chris’ on his thigh. Sebastian traces patterns of unspoken love and admiration into Chris’ skin, branding him as Sebastian’s until his leg start to fall asleep and the movie is over.

“ _Tu esti grele_ ,” Sebastian mumbles and pulls Chris to his feet.

“What?” Chris asks. Sebastian takes his hand and Chris tenses a bit so he lets go. Chris catches his hand and holds it tightly.

“I said you're heavy. Let’s get you to bed.” Most of the alcohol is out of Chris’ system by now, but he is still exhausted. He falls into bed, still holding Sebastian’s hand.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” Chris all but whines. They have two weeks off before the press tour and Sebastian is headed to LA for two days while Chris stayed in New York.

“I’ll see you soon, though,” Sebastian says, sitting on the edge of the bed and carding his fingers through Chris’ hair. Sebastian has to be imagining the tightness of Chris’ hand around his. “I'm leaving really early though, so I need to get some sleep.” He twists out of Chris’ grip, but Chris is already half asleep. Sebastian stands there for a few moments before pressing a kiss to his temple and leaving, closing the door after him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chris_

Chris wakes up with a startling headache and a sensation of loneliness. Then he remembers—Sebastian left. Groaning, he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. He can’t remember much from last night other than the ghost of a kiss pressed to his temple and the feeling of Sebastian’s hands on his back. He sits up to find his phone, his wallet, a note, and a glass of water on the nightstand. Chris picks up the note, finding the familiar scrawl of Sebastian’s handwriting.

_I left you some tea steeping on the counter and some aspirin. Text me when you wake up so I know you're alive._

He had signed it _Sebastian_ with a little heart next to it and damn if that wasn’t adorable.

“I don’t have your number,” Chris says out loud. He checks his phone and sure enough Sebastian had put his number in his phone. Labelled _Seb_. He sends a text quickly.

_Alive. Thanks for last night._

And then, without thought, adds:

_The heart next to your name is lopsided. You should work on that._

Chris smiles to himself, rolls over, and falls back asleep.

 

_Sebastian_

Sebastian has been in meetings all day. People wanting him to do all kinds of things. So when he finally gets back to the hotel, it was no wonder that he has at least five text messages and a few missed calls. All, surprisingly, from Chris.

_Alive. Thanks for last night._

_The heart next to your name is lopsided. You should work on that._

Sebastian laughs out loud, almost having forgot he had done that. About two hours later, Chris had sent another text.

_Seb? You mad at me?_

Oh shit. Sebastian is about to text back, _no, of course not, how could I ever be mad at you,_ but there were more messages.

_Oh god. I did something awful last night, didn’t I?_

_Must have been something really bad to piss you off._

_I’m so sorry._

He listens to the voicemail next.

“. . . god, Sebastian. Whatever I did . . . fuck.” His voice cracked and Sebastian’s heart shattered and fragmented into the night sky that he loved so much. “I—I’m so sorry.” Sebastian scrambled to call him back.

“Hello?” Chris sounds exhausted. His heart throbs painfully in his chest.

“ _Alo_ —Chris!”

“Sebastian?”

“You have other friends?” Sebastian jokes, trying to lighten the tension he can hear in Chris’ voice.

“Not many,” Chris says back quietly and it cuts like a knife.

“Chris . . . nothing happened last night.” There is a pause before Chris sighs.

“Like I said, I always do stupid shit when I'm drunk, and you don’t have to pretend like nothing happened to make me feel better.” Sebastian clings to his phone, to the words coming out of Chris’ mouth and into the phone that is distorting that beautiful voice.

 _“V_ _ă rog,_ Chris _,_ please. Nothing happened _, promit—_ promise _.”_ Chris laughs softly.

“You know I love it when you speak other languages at me.” Sebastian laughs, probably more than the comment warrants, but he and Chris are okay. And the world is brighter for it. “Aren’t you busy?” Chris asks.

“I have a thing in—well, now. _Rahat_ —sorry. I actually have to go.” Chris laughs.

“Go on. We can talk later. Don’t miss me too much.”

“ _La revedere_ —goodbye,Chris.”

“Bye, Seb.” Sebastian hangs up, smiling like an idiot, but he has a function to get to.

 _Function_ is a funny word for “drinks with executives” but that’s what it is. And he has to go mingle. Bars aren't something he's fond of, but it is necessary for his career, so he has to go. He sits at the bar and makes small talk with people who are way more important than him. He puts up with the exec touching his thigh suggestively because he has to. He drinks a little more than he should, but hey, who wouldn’t? Things get bad when he goes to leave. He isn't exactly walking straight and the exec has followed him to the elevator.

"Can I help you with something?" Sebastian asks politely. The exec lurches drunkenly across the expanse of the elevator and grabs him by the throat, hand going down to touch Sebastian through his jeans. He tries to cry out, but his air is cut off and he can't. The man is sucking marks into his skin, leaving bruises with his hands, and Sebastian is helpless to stop him until the elevator dings and stops at the man's floor. The man just let him go, Sebastian sagging to the ground basically coughing up a lung and crying, and got out of the elevator.

It's two AM when Sebastian gets back to his hotel room feeling dirty and tired. His phone had died while he was out, so he plugs it up and jumps into the shower. He can still feel the warm hand on his thigh and hot breath on his neck, can still hear the _let’s get out of here_ ringing in his ears. Can feel the mouth on his skin and the hand over his pants. He shivers even though the water was hot, and gets out.

Towel wrapped around his waist, Sebastian goes through his closet searching for suitable clothing. He finds a pair of pyjama pants that are not his and realises they belong to Chris. He puts them on immediately and picks up his phone.

_I have a pair of your pants. Not sure how that happened._

Within two seconds, Chris responds.

_Better keep them warm for me._

Sebastian stares stupidly at his phone. Is Chris flirting with him or . . . no. No, Chris Evans is not flirting with him. Of course not.

 _Well I'm wearing them, so_.

His phone rings and he answers.

“Wearing my pants, huh?” Sebastian lets out a breath he didn’t know he'd been holding.

“Well if that’s a problem I can always take them off.” He snaps a hand over his mouth, horrified that he had actually said that.

“Keep ‘em. It’s not like I don’t have more.” There was silence on the line and Sebastian can hear him breathing. It's ragged, shallow.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks softly.

“Just kind of . . . no.” No, Chris isn't okay and it hurts Sebastian that he isn't able to be there. That he's on the other side of the country and too far away from Chris.

“What happened?” Sebastian goes out on the balcony to looks up at the stars, finding Jupiter with ease.

“Just so many people, you know? Wanting things from me. Everyone wants something from me.” Sebastian can hear Chris’ breathing accelerate and knows he's having an anxiety attack.

“Okay, hey, you need to slow your breathing down. Deep breaths. Get some water.”

“I’m kind of . . . on the floor.” Sebastian frowns.

“Just breathe, Chris. I’m right here. Do you want me to Skype you?” Chris makes a noise that sounded like yes, so Sebastian grabs his computer and opens Skype. “I’m going to hang up now, Chris. But I’m Skyping you right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Chris says weakly. Sebastian hangs up and hits the call button. Chris answers immediately. He's in a dark shirt that brings out his eyes. He looks beautiful. He always does. But Sebastian can tell that his hands are shaking.

“Hey, Chris,” Sebastian says.

“Seb,” Chris murmurs. “Sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Don’t be.” _Don’t be, I love you, you're perfect._ “You’d think the same if you heard about my night.” Chris almost smiles, the semi-blurry picture not doing his tidepool eyes justice.

“Is there someone I need to punch?” Chris is breathing a little bit easier.

“Maybe. Go get some water.” Chris leaves and comes back a few seconds later with a bottle of water. “Drink,” Sebastian orders.

“Bossy, you are,” Chris grumps.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and drink your water.”

“Tell me what happened.” Chris isn’t smiling into the camera anymore. He looks worried, maybe angry. Like he's searching Sebastian's face and something bothers him. Sebastian immediately tries to wipe the emotion off of his face, but the damage is already done.

“Just some exec who enjoyed touching me where he shouldn’t. Nothing I haven’t handled a million times.” A cracking comes over the monitor as Chris crushes his water bottle.

“He did _what_?” Chris demands. “Fuck—did he hurt you? What happened? Seb?”

“ _Rahat_ , Chris, nothing. He didn’t hurt me. Not really. Just a few bruises. It’s okay. I'm okay. Everything's okay.” Chris’ hands are shaking again, but this time he's mad. He's _livid_. Sebastian can almost see the anger coming off Chris in waves, in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that. Not you. Fuck—not anyone. But not you.” Sebastian pulls the laptop closer, almost like pulling Chris closer. "Do I need to get on a plane?" 

“I’m okay. I know how to deal with those guys. I’ve had to before.” This is dangerous territory. He hasn’t ever told anyone those things.

“That almost makes it worse.” Chris sighs, reaches out like he can touch Sebastian, and then drops his hand. “Are you okay?”

“ _Da_ . . . yes.”

“Good. When are you coming back to New York?”

“Tomorrow, actually. Late tomorrow though.” Chris lights up.

“Wanna get dinner?” Sebastian laughs. Chris is asking him out? No, just dinner. Friends have dinner together. Right?

“Chris, it’ll be at least eleven before I get there.”

“Still, dinner?” Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Dinner. But you’re coming to my place because I’d like to sleep in my own bed.” It's out of his mouth before he can stop it. “ _Rahat_ —I only meant—”

“I know what you meant. I’ll pick you up at the airport at eleven. Now go to bed.”

“Good night, Chris.” He ends the call and sits quietly for a few minutes, smiling to himself, before rolling over and falling asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chris_  

Chris is sitting in roadwork traffic with Sebastian in the passenger seat humming to whatever music is on the radio. Every few minutes, Chris sneaks a glance at the smaller man, trying to read his face. He looks wary, almost scared, but Chris never can tell. Sebastian doesn’t have a very expressive face unless he’s comfortable around you. And Chris had thought Sebastian was comfortable around him, so whatever was bothering him had to be bad. He had been jumpy when Chris had picked him up, and his hands are shaking even now. He tries to hide it by pressing his hands to his thighs, but Chris sees. Chris also sees the dark bruise on Sebastian’s wrist. After a few more minutes of stop-and-go traffic and secret glimpses, Chris sighs softly and gives up.

 “What?” Sebastian asks, not looking up from his trembling hands.

 “Just traffic,” Chris says, hunkering down in his seat to hide from the disbelieving look Sebastian’s giving him that screams _bullshit_. The car lapses back into the quiet of some pop song Chris doesn’t recognise. The traffic lets up and Chris makes his way toward Sebastian’s apartment.

 “Something’s wrong,” Sebastian says. Chris looks over at him sharply. “No—not with me—with you. I mean— _rahat_ —what’s wrong? You look sad.” _I'm sad because you look like you're hurting and I don’t know why and I love you._

 “I could say the same to you,” Chris mutters quietly, careful to keep his face expressionless. He wants Sebastian to feel safe, but he also wants to know what’s going on. He doesn’t want to push, but he’s worried. Sebastian doesn’t say anything, only points out his apartment and tells Chris where to park.

“I have to warn you that it’s kind of a mess up there,” Sebastian says, still not looking Chris in the eyes. He goes to grab his suitcase, but Chris gets to it first and gestures for Sebastian to lead the way. Two flights of stars later Sebastian is fumbling for his keys with still-shaking hands and Chris’ heart is breaking a little more each minute. The door opens and Chris navigates bookshelves, coffee tables, and scattered papers into the bedroom where he puts the suitcase down on the bed.

“What do you want for dinner?” Chris asks, coming back out into the living room.

“It’ll have to be take-out. I don’t have anything here, really.”

“Whatever you want is fine.” Sebastian nods and goes to take out his phone.

“Oh, my phone broke. Can I use yours?” Chris pulls his out and hands it over. “Thanks.” Long, elegant fingers type in a number and hit the call button and all Chris can think is _I love you_.

 

_Sebastian_

Ten minutes later, they are on opposite ends of the couch watching a Disney movie that Sebastian has never seen. Chris knows all the words by heart and its kind of adorable. Sebastian knows that Chris knows something’s up, but neither of them have spoken about it yet, and Sebastian would like it to stay that way. He had literally thrown his phone across his hotel room last night before he could call Chris and explain everything about his past. Everything that made him who he was and everything that he was too afraid to say out loud. All of his fears and his regrets and his nightmares and everything that had happened to him. He had wanted to pour it all out to Chris because Chris is kind and accepting and always willing to listen. He’s good and wonderful and everything Sebastian isn’t. And looking across the couch, watching Chris sing along to the movie, Sebastian’s heart aches.

“You want me to get that?” Chris asks quietly, snapping Sebastian out of his dark thoughts.

“I—what?” Chris gets up and opens the door, giving the delivery guy cash, and shuts the door. “I—I'm sorry. I didn’t hear it,” Sebastian says lamely. Chris comes back with the pizza and sets it on the coffee table, turning the volume down on the TV. He sits right next to Sebastian and placed a hand over his still-shaking one. “Chris . . .”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Chris says, electric blue eyes boring into Sebastian. “Just know that I'm here and I care about you and nothing you tell me will change that.” And just like that, Chris is on the other side of the couch and Sebastian’s hand is cold where Chris’ was just seconds ago. The older man turns the volume back up and grabs pizza and Sebastian is left dizzy from it all. Chris glances over at him once, twice, and then the TV is off, the pizza is abandoned, and Chris is kneeling in front of him.

“Nu mă urăsc,” Sebastian mumbles, trying to hide the tears. Chris takes his hands and lifts his chin so that Sebastian is forced to look at him.

“You know I love when you speak other languages at me, but I have no fuckin’ idea what that means.” Sebastian takes a few deep breaths.

“I said don’t hate me.” Chris’ eyes widen and he pulls Sebastian down into his lap, cradling him in the warm strength of his arms. Sebastian just cries, trying to think of how to explain, of how much he should say. Should he just tell Chris everything?

“I could never hate you, Seb,” Chris murmurs into his hair, warm breath tickling his scalp. Soothing hands run up and down his back leaving tingling heat in their wake. “You’re perfect and wonderful and brilliant. I could never hate you.” Sebastian sniffles and looks up.

“I’ve never told anyone this stuff,” he whispers. “This is a whole new territory for me. But I trust you.” Chris nods.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Seb. I just want you to be okay, but if talking about it will help, I'm here.” Sebastian nods and presses his face into Chris’ shirt, too afraid to look at him.

“When we left Romania and came here, I used to have nightmares. Awful nightmares that would wake my mom up in the night to me screaming and crying. They were—sometimes still are—about being deported. About being sent back there and—” he almost says _never seeing you again_ , but he stops himself. “And, _zeu_ , Chris, my first few years here were awful. They were great in the sense that it was a new place and my mother wasn’t as scared anymore, but it was hard. It was hard being the kid with the weird accent who didn’t always speak English.” Chris’ arms constricted tightly around him and he pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s temple. “And then, a few years ago when I had just gotten the part for the first Cap film— _rahat_.” Sebastian broke into tears again, having to stop talking.

“If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me,” Chris assured. “Fuck, you’ve told me so much. I don’t expect anything from you, Seb. Nothing. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” That only makes Sebastian cry harder, that Chris cares about him enough to hold him while he cries.  “You’re okay, you can do anything, I'm here, I'm right here, and I'm not leaving anytime soon.” Sebastian looked up slowly into watery blue eyes.

“I’ll tell you. If you really want to know.” Chris cups his jaw with one hand.

“Of course I do.” With that affirmation, Sebastian dives into it with halting shattered sentences. It seems to go on forever, but Chris is there—a constant through the whole thing. He’s supportive and encouraging and he never stops touching Sebastian’s skin. His face, his hands, his arms. Chris doesn’t let him go and isn’t repulsed and doesn’t leave just like he promised. By the time Sebastian’s done talking, Chris is crying and Sebastian is still crying and they just hold each other.

“That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud,” Sebastian confesses.

“I knew there was something more to the story last night,” Chris whispered. His body is tense and he won't meet Sebastian’s gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Sebastian tries to back away, to give Chris space, but those arms just tighten and hold him closer.

“ _Mi-era teamă_ ,” Sebastian whispers. “I was afraid.” Chris rocks him slowly, and Sebastian can't find it in himself to mind much.

“Fuck, Sebastian. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me anything. Ever. _Please_.” Another kiss to Sebastian’s temple, and a quick hug, then Chris is getting up and pulling Sebastian with him. “Let’s get some food in you and if you wanna talk more after that, that’s fine.” Sebastian checks the time.

“Chris, it’s almost three AM.” Chris just shrugs.

“I’m here. Unless you want me to go?” Sebastian leans into him and Chris embraces him again.

“ _Niciodată_ ,” Sebastian murmurs. “Never.” Chris smiles shyly when he pulls away and Sebastian can feel the blush rising on his face, but he lets Chris microwave the pizza and eats what he’s given. As soon as he’s finished and everything is cleaned up, Chris is pushing him to the bedroom.

“Bed. Now.” Sebastian looks at him, confused. “I’ll take the couch.” Sebastian catches his hand.

“The bed is big enough, if you want.” He looks at the floor as he says it, cheeks flushing. Chris’ breath catches, just for a second, but Sebastian hears it. Chris just nods. They pull their shirts off and Sebastian changes and gives Chris his pants back out of his suitcase and they get into bed on opposite sides of the mattress. Sebastian shivers, having forgotten how cold his room gets. There’s movement, and then a warm body is curled around him.

“Okay?” Chris whispers, breath hitting Sebastian’s neck. He shivers again, and this time it’s not from the cold.

“Yeah,” he whispers back and Chris’ arm comes to settle around his waist. “ _Noapte buna_ , Chris.” Hot lips press a kiss to the nape of Sebastian’s neck.

“Good night.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Chris_  

Chris wakes up curled around long limbs and kitten-soft hair and warmth. He stays where he is for a few moments, enjoying the feel of Sebastian’s body against his own. The sun is barely up so it must still be early, but Chris’ body is stiff and aches a bit from where he was on the floor for so long the night before.

He kisses Sebastian’s shoulder and stretches as much as he can without waking the man next to him. His joins pop and crack softly in the quiet room. Sebastian shifts to face him, still asleep, and Chris smiles.

Sebastian looks so much younger in sleep and Chris wonders what he did to deserve being in this bed beside him. Even if it’s totally platonic and was only for the night, he’s okay with it. As long as Sebastian still wants him around. He tenses thinking about that. _What if Sebastian doesn’t want me around after this?_ he thinks. _What if I’ve messed everything up and he rejects me and doesn’t want me and wants me to leave and I've fucked up a perfectly good, platonic friendship?_

His breathing accelerates and he gets up, wandering into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. It doesn’t help. All he can think about is losing Sebastian and not being able to see that radiant smile and hear the soft accent curing around vowels and touch that soft, tan skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, pressing his hands to his face and sliding down onto the floor. _I can't do this. I can't lose him. I've read everything wrong and he doesn’t want me like that and I can't have him. I have to leave_  

But Chris doesn’t want to leave. He wants to get back into bed with the picturesque man in the other room and let go back to sleep. His hands are sweaty and trembling and his chest is tight and he can't get enough air in his lungs.

“Chris?” Sebastian calls from the bedroom. _Fuck. Not like this. Please, no._ “Chris?” Sebastian asks again, quieter. There is pain in his quiet voice and it stabs Chris right in the heart. Uneven footsteps head toward the bathroom and Chris hides his face in his hands. “Chris! _Rahat_ —are you okay? Chris, what’s wrong?”

“I . . . I can't—”

Sebastian kneels in front of him and drags Chris’ arm from his face. He places Chris’ hand on his chest—over his heart. “Breathe with me. In . . . out.” Chris does as he’s told. “That’s it. You’re okay. Just breathe. I'm right here.” Sebastian continues murmuring encouragement and Chris’ breathing evens out.

“I’m sorry,” Chris chokes out. Sebastian looks horrified.

“Vă rog, Chris, please. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.” Sebastian hugs him close for a few minutes until the floor becomes uncomfortable and he pulls Chris up. “Breakfast?” he asks, all smiles and shining eyes and ruffles hair. Chris can't help but say yes.

 

_Sebastian_

Sebastian wakes up to an empty bed. At first, he isn’t bothered by it. It’s normal. But then last night comes rushing back and Sebastian bolts upright, covers falling off of his naked torso.

“Chris?” he asks of the empty room, getting no response. He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, wincing when his body protests. A low groan of pain escapes his lips and he stands, looking around the room. Chris’ jeans are still there on the floor, which means he hasn’t left . . . and the light is on in the bathroom. “Chris?” Sebastian asks again, quieter this time. He opens the bathroom door slowly to see Chris sitting on the floor, head in his hands, hyperventilating. “Chris! _Rahat_ —are you okay? Chris, what’s wrong?”

“I . . . I can't—” Chris can't finish. Sebastian drops to his knees and tugs at Chris’ arm. The brunette’s hands are shaking and his skin is cold—never good.

He takes Chris’ hand and rests it over his own heart. “Breathe with me. In . . . out.” Chris listens, breathing with Sebastian. “That’s it. You’re okay. Just breathe. I'm right here.” Sebastian squeezes Chris’ hand gently and continues to talk him through it.

Chris has awful anxiety attacks. Usually its before a premier or a con—anything that involves a lot of people or a lot of pressure. Sebastian doesn’t understand why he’s having one now. Does he want to leave? Was last night too much? Had he told him too much? Scared him off?

“I’m sorry,” Chris chokes out. Sebastian gapes at him. _He’s_ sorry?

“Vă rog, Chris, please. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.” Sebastian pulls the bigger man close and holds him for a few minutes. After a few minutes, it becomes uncomfortable and he pulls Chris to his feet. “Breakfast?” Sebastian asks, smiling softly. Chris nods, and Sebastian leads him to the kitchen. “Sit,” he orders. Chris rolls his eyes and sits. “I can make pancakes, if you want.”

“Pancakes sound great, Seb.” Chris’ voice sounds stronger—more confident—back to normal. Sebastian pulls out everything he needs for pancakes and gets to it. Chris excuses himself to shower and Sebastian puts on music. Pop music—just to annoy Chris. He dances around the kitchen, setting out plates and forks and maple syrup and orange juice. He piles pancakes onto a serving plate and hums the song softly 

_Don't fuck with my love_

_That heart is so cold_

_All over my home_

_I don't wanna know that babe_

“I get breakfast _and_ a show?” Chris asks from behind him. Sebastian jumps and knocks his hip on the corner of the table.

“ _De-te la dracul_ —don’t do that to me!” Chris only laughs.

“You okay?” he asks, coming closer and brushing his hand over Sebastian’s hip.

“ _Da_ . . . it happens a lot. You’ve seen me on set.” Chris smiles and Sebastian blushes. Chris’ hand is still warming his hip and Sebastian is still bare-chested.

“Did you just say something about Dracula?” Chris looks at him incredulously and Sebastian can't help but laugh.

“I said, more or less, go to the devil.” Chris is laughing now, too, and Sebastian moves closer to him. Chris is still smiling when Sebastian leans in close, asking a question. “Vreau să te sărut,” he murmurs, knowing Chris has no idea what he’s saying. Chris’ lips answer in the very best way, pressing lightly to his own. Chris’ lips are warm and soft and inviting and everything Sebastian dreamed of. Until his head catches up to his body and he jumps away. “ _Rahat_. Shit. I'm so sorry, Chris.” He backs away from the older man.

“What?” Chris asks, backing away as well.

“I can't believe I did that. Îmi pare atât de rău.” Sebastian’s mind is barely working, but the part that is is starting to give him a headache. He wants to curl up on the floor and disappear and hide and a part of him wants Chris to leave. For them to forget about it and be normal again. But from the look on the older man’s face that’s not going to happen.

“Seb?” Chris takes a step closer to him. “Sebastian,” he says again, pressing right up to Sebastian’s chest. Chris’ hand comes up to cup Sebastian’s jaw and he can't help but lean into the touch. “Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, deep blue eyes boring into his.

“ _Da_.” Chris kisses him slow and deep and it’s everything Sebastian could have asked for and everything he wants and everything he needs. In this moment they are one person—no distinction between arms and legs and tongues and teeth. Chris lifts Sebastian onto the counter so he can press between his thighs. Chris is hard and Sebastian whimpers quietly. 

“Bed?” Chris whispers.

“Bed.”


	5. Chapter 5

_Chris_

Sebastian is easily taken apart and Chris enjoys every second of it. There is no doubt in his mind that Sebastian usually bottoms, but he seems as though he likes to take control every now and again. Chris loves that. Loves the demanding way Sebastian gets him out of his clothes. Loves the breathy commands to undress him. Loves Sebastian.

“ _V_ _ă rog_ —please, I need you, Chris.” That does it and Chris presses Sebastian onto the bed and showers his torso with soft kisses. Sebastian threads slim fingers through Chris’ hair and applies slight pressure. Chris gets the message.

He takes his time—kissing all the way down over the hard planes of Sebastian’s stomach and his hipbones and his inner thighs until Sebastian is writhing and moaning incoherently.

“You ready, baby?” Chris asks, only half teasing. He needs a _yes_ before he goes through with it. He knows that he wants it, but he wants to be sure Sebastian wants it as much as he does. Sebastian’s hand is still in his hair, his thumb rubbing circles over Chris’ temple.

“Chris, please,” he whimpers. Chris kisses his hipbone, nipping a bit and smiling smugly when Sebastian chokes out a moan.

“I need a yes, sweetheart.” He settles on the other hip and sucks and deep purple mark on the finely tanned skin.

“ _Da_. . . god, Chris. Yes.” Without another word Chris swallows him down to the root and relaxes his throat before hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard. Sebastian’s hand tightens in his hair and his hips jerk upward. Chris experiments for a while—lapping at the head and dipping his tongue into the slit, swallowing around him, and just a little but of teeth.

He glances up and Sebastian’s face and nearly comes right then and there. Sebastian’s head is tipped back, mouth open and spewing what Chris can only guess is Romanian profanity.

“Seb . . . lube?” he asks before diving back in with fervor. Sebastian gestures to the nightstand drawer and Chris opens it to find a small bottle of lube. He places it on the nightstand and covers Sebastian’s body with his own and grinds his hips down. “Condom?” Sebastian looks up at him, all steel blue eyes and radiance.

“I’m clean . . . I mean if you . . . we can. I have some.” Chris shakes his head.

“No. I’m clean. I want to feel you.” He grinds his hips down to accentuate his words.

Sebastian goes crazy—grabbing Chris’ hips and rutting up against him, sucking marks onto Chris’ neck . . . Chris loves it. He slicks up his finger and reaches down, rubbing teasingly at Sebastian’s hole.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Chris says. He doesn’t know where this boldness is coming from. Maybe its because Sebastian is just so fucking responsive. Maybe it’s love. At the moment, he really doesn’t care.

“Finger me,” Sebastian orders. Chris does as he’s told with a small smile, pushing one finger through the tight ring of muscle and into Sebastian. Sebastian bucks his hips, breathing heavily, and brings Chris down for another kiss. He adds another finger, and then a third until Sebastian is writing, fists knotting in Chris’ hair and the sheets alike. Chris hooks his finger, searching. He knows he’s hit his mark when Sebastian lets out a high-pitched wail.

“ _Stop_!” Sebastian almost yells. Immediately Chris is on the edge of the bed, breathing hard. 

“I—I'm sorry. Fuck—Seb . . .” Sebastian pounces on him and turns their bodies so that he’s on top.

“Not like that, idiot,” Sebastian says tenderly. “I just don’t want this to be over before it’s started.” Chris smiles and the panic dissolves from his chest.

“C’mere,” Chris murmurs, pulling the smaller man down for a kiss. “You ready, baby?” Chris asks between kisses.

“Please, Chris. I want you in me. I want to feel you.” A blush creeps onto his cheeks like he can't believe what he’s saying. Sebastian is usually so reserved that it shocks Chris. He loves it. He rolls them again and lines his cock up with Sebastian’s hole. 

“You tell me if you need to stop, alright?” Sebastian makes an unintelligible noise and tries to push himself onto Chris’ cock. “I need to hear it, baby,” Chris murmurs sweetly, gently.

“ _Să-mi fut_ —fuck me.”

  

_Sebastian_

Chris is torturing him, drawing this out. Sebastian can't find it in his heart to mind much, though. He lifts his hips, trying to gain purchase.

“Am I . . . you need to tell me now . . . I know I don’t deserve you . . . tell me if you don’t want me.” Chris’ eyes snap open, deep blue and boring into Sebastian’s soul.

“Don’t _ever_ say that,” he almost growls. “You’re fucking perfect. I—fuck. Just don’t. Please?” Sebastian nods. Chris is sliding in slowly and trying his hardest not to hurt him. Sebastian can’t suppress the overwhelming love he feels for this man. Cupping Chris’ jaw, he brings him down for a deep, slow kiss. Chris pulls away from his lips and kisses down his jaw, down his neck, and to his collarbone where he sucks a deep purple mark on Sebastian’s skin. He moans lowly, trying to make Chris move. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. You just taste so fuckin’ good.” Sebastian’s lips curl into a small smile until Chris rolls his hips gently. His lips part then, and Chris’ tongue dips between them.

“You—you, _please_. I need . . . I need you, Chris.”

“Ask me again.”

“ _Vă rog,_ fuck me, please.” Chris is moving before Sebastian gets the whole sentence out.

“Fuck—I don’t—you’re beautiful,” Chris whispers, slowing down. “Let go, Seb. I wanna hear you.” Chris hits his prostate as if to reinforce his words and Sebastian loses it. He knows he’s loud during sex—always has been—but this feels different. Better, somehow. He’s unaware of what’s coming out of his mouth. Probably a litany of Romanian curses and English encouragements. Chris is hitting that spot over and over again and Sebastian feels his orgasm pooling in his belly.

“Chris,” he breathes. “Touch me.” Chris’ hips jerk erratically—off beat with the movement of his hand over Sebastian’s cock—but neither of them care. “Chris, please. Harder. I’m not gonna fuckin’ break.” Chris’ free hand digs into Sebastian’s hips.

“Such a mouth on you,” Chris grits out 

“You love it, _iubi._ ” Chris laughs and thrusts harder, brow furrowing in concentration and pleasure. Sebastian lifts his hips to meet Chris’ as much as he can, but Chris’ fingers are still holding onto his hip. “Ah . . . yes . . . _that_ —” He’s so close. “Gonna come—” And he does. He comes hard over their stomachs with a shout of Chris’ name and he can feel Chris spilling into him.

“I love you,” Chris whispers. So low Sebastian can barely hear it. Sebastian’s heart feels like it’s going to explode and he pulls Chris into a warm kiss. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and kissing, Chris slides out of him and gets up. He comes back a few moments later with a warm cloth to clean them up and settles back under the covers. Sebastian snuggles up to his side, breathing deeply.

“You okay?” Chris asks quietly.

“ _Da . . . secundă, vă rog_.”

“I have no clue what you just said. Try it again in French and I might catch a few words.” Sebastian laughs.

“I said . . . yes, one minute, please.” Chris kisses his temple and pushes his hair out of his face.

After a few minutes, Chris asks again, “Are you okay? 

“Yes. I feel wonderful. You—you’re wonderful.”

“Not too rough?” He shakes his head. Before he knows it, the words are out of his mouth.

“ _Te iubesc,_ ” Sebastian murmurs, kissing Chris’ shoulder. “I love you.” Chris turns on his side and Sebastian can see the happiness on his face.

“God, Seb. I love you so fucking much.” He kisses him, and it feels like coming home.


	6. Chapter 6

_One year later: Chris_

With the Age of Ultron filming done, he and Sebastian have time off. It’ll be nice—being able to get away. To have a few weeks to themselves. It’s hard sometimes with their careers taking them to different places. But their love is unshakable and permanent and Chris wants to make that tangible.

He’s been holding onto the jewellery for a while now, not having found the right time to present it. He’s not so good with words, and even though Sebastian says he doesn’t care, Chris wants this to be perfect. For Sebastian. For himself. For them.

They’re going out tonight—just the two of them. A few months back they had made their relationship public and caused Marvel a whole lot of trouble. But Marvel backed them up, not giving too much away, and for that, they were grateful. They were sick of having to hide, and now they didn’t have to.

So when they got to the restaurant, Chris doesn’t shy away from holding Sebastian’s hand while they wait to be seated. Sebastian leans into him, his head on Chris’ shoulder. Chris drops kisses on his head and forehead because he can and he wants to. The waiter leads them to their table and they sit, smiling stupidly at each other.

They order and eat and laugh and Chris knows. He knows it has to be tonight. He might not know the right words, but he knows what he feels, and that’s good enough.

Chris fidgets on the taxi ride to Sebastian’s apartment. He knows by the way Sebastian squeezes his hand that his boyfriend knows something’s up. Sebastian doesn’t ask and that’s good because Chris wouldn’t know how to answer. When they get to the apartment Sebastian pays the driver and they get out. Chris isn’t sure when he wants to do this. He didn’t do it in public because he wants this to be intimate. They don’t need to put it on display—their relationship is public enough already.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Sebastian asks, putting his arms around Chris and looking up at him. Chris leans down and kisses him softly.

“Sure. Go pick something out. I'm gonna change.” Sebastian smiled happily and Chris went to take his nice clothes off. Instead, he settled for jeans and a blue cotton shirt. He wasn’t going to propose to Sebastian in sweatpants. When he went back out, Sebastian was sprawled across the couch. He has taken his suit jacket off to reveal his white collared shirt. The top two buttons are undone and his tie is loosened. He looks perfect. They aren’t going to get to the movie. Chris is doing this now.

“Ready?” Sebastian asks. Chris panics.

“I—um—give me a sec.” He takes a few deep breaths and pulls Sebastian up so that they’re both standing. “I don’t know how to . . . I love you and—fuck.” He takes a deep breath and starts again, looking Sebastian in the eyes. He looks scared. Chris knows what he’s thinking. “No! Sebastian, look at me. I love you so fucking much. You’re perfect and—fuck. Don’t ever . . . don’t ever fucking think that I don’t want you. I—I don’t know how to say this. I'm not . . . I suck at words. I can't ever say things right. But I know I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Chris drops to one knee and pulls the ring from his pocket, presenting it to a shocked Sebastian. “I know it hasn’t been long . . . and maybe this is too early. You can say no . . . or wait. But—fuck. Will you marry me?”

 

_One year ago: Sebastian_

Chris just asked to marry him. Words escape him. His brain isn’t working. He can't form syllables. Chris’ face is hopeful. Of course the answer is yes, Sebastian just can't get it out. The world is bright at wonderful and Sebastian loves this man will all of his heart. He never knew he could feel this strongly for someone. It’s incredible and terrifying and he doesn’t know if he’s good enough, but Chris loves him and they will do this together. Sebastian sinks to his knees and presents his left hand. He fights for words.

“Da—yes, _iubi_. Yes!” Chris laughs and slides the ring onto his hand, radiating pure joy. Sebastian can feel it. “I love you— _te iubesc_. Forever.” Chris kisses him—slow and sweet. His lips are soft and their teeth clack together because their smiling and Sebastian’s knees hurt but he doesn’t care. Right now, nothing matters but Chris. “Do you have one?” he asks, still mystified.

“They came as a matching set.” Chris pulls out another silver band. “You’ll get to put it on my finger at the wedding.” Sebastian kisses him again.

“You’re perfect. I love you.”

“I love you.”

 

They can do this. They can face anything together. They love each other. And that’s enough.


End file.
